The Last Five Years
by overthemoon07
Summary: Mark and Roger reflect on their relationship


**I wrote this for a ficathon. The request was angsty Mark/Roger and the prompt was to begin with "so this is the end". I've never seen L5Y before but I've had the plot summarized to me so this is my borrowing/interpretation of the plot. It's not a crossover. The bold is Mark and the italicized is Roger. Hope you like it.**

**The Last Five Years**

**So this is the end. It's over. Everything I've ever wanted… gone. I worked so hard, wished and prayed for this, waited my entire life. And here I stand, empty handed, with nothing to my name but a handful of memories - memories that will eventually wash away, mixing into each other in a drunken swirl of nothing. Once I am gone, they too, disappear. But here I am. Alone again, naturally. **

_So this is the beginning. This is what it feels like. It's warm and tingly and makes me feel things I never dreamed I could feel. It's this powerful rush of passion and heat and my God, I could just explode. It's beautiful, like a painting in an art museum – the one that other people may pass by but when you see it, you're caught off guard, your heart pauses, everything moves in slow motion like in a movie, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. That's what this feeling is. I can't breathe and it's wonderful._

**We weren't always like this. There were times when he'd touch me and make me feel things I'd only read about in books. He didn't wince when my fingers moved across his warm skin, brushed through his messy mane, skimmed over his dry cracked lips. When we spoke, it was in a gentle warm tone, a lover's whisper, a playful banter back and forth. Words were spoken to cradle the heart, not break it. His voice was a gentle melody, singing words of truth and honesty and love. Yeah, love. We were in love. **

_We weren't always like this. There was a time before kisses were shared, before soft words were spoken, before love was made. It was strange and awkward – he was my best friend. I caught myself staring too many times to count and when I closed my eyes, his were there in the darkness. The unintentional brush of his skin against mine sent millions of shivers tumbling down my spine. I felt things, strange things, for him and I prayed to whatever greater spirit there is that he felt things, too. I prayed that he'd love me like I loved him._

**I remember the last time we made love. It was August, early August, after Maureen's birthday party. Things were shaky between us but as I look back now, that was like a spring rain and the storm was yet to come. We'd gotten dressed up – her party was themed of course. Luckily nothing too ridiculous, like that time she refused to let anyone in unless they'd come dressed like a Rocky Horror character. No, she'd opted to go with something a little more reserved – Hollywood glamour movie star bash. Of course, she wasn't reserved in the least. She was gorgeous as ever and there was plenty of booze. That's all I really remember about the party – but the sex, the sex I remember. He gets horny when he drinks too much and Maureen had considered tapping a keg for the guy.**

**I found myself backed up against the bathroom wall of the girls' apartment, everyone else carrying on in the living room. His mouth was warm and wet and had more alcohol in it than nail polish remover. We'd argued earlier that night before the party so I was surprised to find myself in such a position. Calloused fingers stroked my cheeks and my chest and my hips and I tugged him against my body with such a lusting desire. I missed him. His scent, his kisses, his fingers, his skin. His naked body against mine, his hand rubbing my erection, our bodies joining together and that noise he made before he came, right into my ear. He didn't fuck me that night at Maureen's. We made love and that was it.**

_I remember the first time we kissed. It was… well, it just was. Things had been awkward lately. I knew what I felt for him and in some ways, I believed he knew, too. We only spoke when necessary and then the questions were short and the answers came in various grunts. It was sometime in late July – I remember the air was hot and sticky, walk-around-the-loft-topless kind of weather – and I'd wandered up onto the roof to let my thoughts roam free. We hadn't spoken all day and he climbed up next to me, staring out at the cellophane sun, pale skin glistening in the summer heat. He never tanned, only burned, which meant he rarely ventured outside on days like these. His fingertips brushed against my forearm as he switched positions and I swear the tiny shocks of electricity were visible. Slowly, I turned to look at him and found icy blue eyes staring back at mine. _

"_S'beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, meaning the sunset._

"_Yeah, it is," I nodded, meaning the man sitting beside me. _

_I couldn't take it anymore. I swore I'd caught him staring at me lately around the loft and I'd never know how he felt until I asked. Cupping his soft cheeks in my hands, I tugged his face towards mine, lips brushing over his gently before settling in to a long kiss. _

_I pulled away, eyes closed for as long as possible, fingers crossed that I wouldn't get slapped. _

"_I thought you were mad at me."_

"_What?"_

"_You weren't talking to me. I thought you were angry."_

_I shook my head, lips curving into a tiny smile as his did the same_.

**Sometimes I try to think back to where it started, or ended rather; try to pinpoint the exact moment it began to fall apart. I haven't been able to find the moment – maybe it fell apart before I can remember. Maybe it never came together and we were just too young and foolish to see that. Perhaps it was due to a lack of attention, a lack of passion, of commitment, of courage. Whatever it was, I know I am at fault. It takes two to tango. **

"**Hi baby," I sighed wearily, letting the huge bag of shit drop to the ground with a crash. **

**His eyes darted up from the notebook but dropped just as quickly. Legs unfolded and refolded and he shifted slightly, but nothing else. This was not the usual greeting I received. Confused, I lay the camera down on the counter and wandered to the windowsill. **

"**Rog?"**

"**Hm?" His voice was rough and the response was curt. **

"**Are you okay?"**

"**M'fine," he murmured, turning away from me.**

"**Obviously you're not," I pointed out. "Or else you would have kissed me and said hello."**

**He always kissed me before saying hello. He kissed me before saying anything.**

"**Where've you been?" he asked, finally tearing his eyes from the pad of paper.**

"**At work…"**

"**You're late getting home. You could've called."**

**Slightly baffled by the request, I cocked my head, forehead scrunching in confusion. I'd been late numerous times without ever calling before and he'd never said anything. Just kissed me longer when I did return. **

"**I'm sorry, baby," I apologized, reaching out to his shoulders. He pulled away from my touch, curling further into himself, becoming brooding Roger, the Roger I'd taken care of after Maureen, after April, after Mimi. "Roger. Why is this a problem today?"**

"**Do you know what today is?" he snapped, eyes narrowing, shooting daggers.**

"**Wednesday."**

"**Four years."**

**Four years? Four years from what? Till what? I must have looked rather confused because his face changed from angry to hurt in two seconds flat. **

"**Four years for us," he answered my unspoken question. "And you didn't remember."**

**Fuck. No, I didn't. We didn't mess with the month shit, too many things to remember, but years, we always remembered. Why had I missed this one?**

"**Rog, I'm sorry," I offered, feeling like a genuine asshole. **

"**Yeah," he nodded, trying to shake it off. "I bet."**

_If I could pick any day to relive over and over, I'd pick the fourth of July, 1993. It was exceedingly hot that day, but it didn't matter. Joanne's parents had a cabin in upstate New York and the girls invited us up for the weekend. Collins came, too, along with Benny. A small three bedroom wood cabin was perched on top of a grassy hill and large oak and pine trees scattered the lawn down to the lake. An old rope swing was knotted on a sturdy branch that extended over the lake. _

_We'd spent the day floating around on plastic inner tubes and rafts on the lake, Mark's body drenched in SPF 45, Maureen floating around topless, and everyone with a drink in hand. Had you asked any of us if we ever thought we'd find ourselves here at this point in our lives five years ago, we would have laughed in your face. But here we were, living 'the good life'. _

_Later that night, I found myself sitting in a plastic lawn chair, watching the festivities of the night begin as the sky slowly faded into a deep purple. Maureen pulled out boxes of sparklers and waved the sticks about in the dusk, scribbling her name in the sky and then throwing the box to Joanne, insisting we all participate. _

_She quickly grew bored of the sparklers and sat impatiently, waiting for the illegal light show to begin. Other cabins that circled the lake had firecrackers set up and ready to go as soon as it was dark enough. I tugged Mark into my lap and he curled up in my arms, skin warm and pink from overexposure to the sun. He tucked his head under my chin and I rubbed his back. Collins told us stories of his students back at NYU, smoke falling from his lips as he spoke and Benny sat quietly, listening, nursing a Budweiser, Maureen distracting Joanne from hearing the end of the story and Mark chuckling against my chest as some funny piece was delivered. _

"_And I stood on the table I was so worked up and I could feel my heart beating wildly and the kids were on the edge of their seats and then…"_

_A loud explosion sounded before Collins could finish and Mark jumped in my lap, clinging close to me. I chuckled lightly as sparks of blue and red sprinkled the sky and rubbed his back again. He ducked his head and sighed, relaxing as Maureen squealed with excitement. _

"_I love fireworks!" she exclaimed, just incase we hadn't heard her the first six times._

_Loud pops and bangs continued while bright reds and purples and oranges exploded in the sky, dancing through the darkness, mingling with stars. As I held Mark close, I glanced around the small group gathered on the grass around the lake and a huge feeling of belonging washed over me, something I hadn't felt many times before. And I thought to myself, yeah, this is right. This is how it should be. We're family._

**I'd only ever had sex with one other person. Maureen.**

_I'd fucked too many girls to count._

**I was scared. Maybe not scared. I wasn't afraid of it, more that I wouldn't be good at it. Or that I wouldn't know what to do.**

_I could tell he was nervous. I was, too, but not about the actual doing. I was nervous because I'd never felt like this before. I'd never loved anyone the way I loved him. _

**But I wanted it. I wanted him.**

_I wanted to show him how much he meant to me._

**So I kissed him.**

_He kissed me, his mouth warm and wet._

**His tongue pushed back against mine and his fingers raked through my hair.**

_He wrapped his arms around my waist and pushed me back against the wall. _

**My hands were shaking and I bit his tongue.**

_He bit my tongue and I laughed against his lips before running my fingers down his chest and slipping them under his sweater._

**He laughed but his fingers grazed over my stomach and any embarrassment I was feeling quickly evaporated and I just kissed harder.**

_I pushed my pelvis against his, dying for some friction, and he moaned into my mouth, his hands slipping into my back pockets._

**Everything was moving in slow motion like a movie. **

_It was too slow, much too slow. I wanted that sweater off of him. Now._

**His hands slid up my chest, bringing the sweater with it and I followed his lead, fingers unbuttoning his shirt as fast as they could go.**

_His skin was warm against mine as our bare chests touched and I held him close, kissing him thoroughly. His hipbones crushed against mine and I whimpered quietly against him._

**His arms snaked around my back and he tugged me towards his room, pushing me backwards onto the bed and climbing on top, his chest pressing against mine.**

_As the rest of the clothing was shed, I explored the newly revealed skin, fingers and mouth covering the flesh. His head tipped back and each place I kissed provoked a new sound from his mouth._

**I made noises I didn't know I could make. His thick calloused fingers skimmed across my skin, sending delicious shivers down my spine and I lifted my hips to meet his, rubbing against him.**

_It was my turn to make noise. God, he felt good. I reached anxiously into the drawer by the bed and tugged out a rubber, ripping it open. "You okay?" _

"**Mhmm," I hummed. **

"_Yeah?"_

"**Yes."**

_I leaned down and caught his lips in a searing kiss._

**He kissed my mouth and I pulled away.**

"_What?"_

"**Roger?"**

"_What?"_

"**I love you."**

"_I love you too."_

**Roger really can be romantic. He has this rough scratchy standoff-ish outer shell, but inside, he's a sensitive soul – he's a poet. I'd often find scraps of paper with scribbled song lyrics left on my pillow or on the counter when he'd have to head out early or if I'd come home late. The things he whispered into my ear, the way he touched me like I was the most precious thing in the world (though I'm not), and the way he looked at me… **

"**Mark… Mark…"**

**I felt a hand reach out and grab mine and I turned from the window in time to meet his eyes, those brilliant green eyes. A warm gentle breeze floated in from the open window, ruffling his hair slightly.**

"**Huh?" I murmured, having been distracted by the passersby outside.**

**He chuckled before speaking. "Something out there more interesting than me?"**

"**No," I said quickly, shaking my head as I crossed my legs under the table. "No, no, nothing's more interesting than you."**

**He smiled again, giving my hand a squeeze. "Oh, good."**

"**I was just thinking…" I admitted.**

"**Thinking? About what?"**

**I inhaled deeply and held it for a moment before slowly blowing it out. "About… us. About me. And you." I paused and looked up. He was staring intently, hanging on my every word. "About how lucky I am to have you. You make me feel… like I'm someone, instead of no one."**

"**Mark, you've always been someone. To me, anyway. You're the most amazing person I've met."**

"**You make me amazing." It was true. Before Roger, I had no self-esteem, no drive, no courage. With him, I felt alive.**

"**No, baby," he shook his head. "You've always been amazing. And you always will be. Never forget that."**

"**How could I when you look at me the way you do?"**

**He smiled again and leaned across the table, lips pressing against mine. **

_Mark has a dark side. He can be jealous and irritable and just plain mean. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not always pleasant, but I just don't know what happened. Strain and stress or anger and jealousy or maybe we just started to fall out of love. Maybe we never really loved each other… I can't say that. I know I loved him. But I loved the Mark I met back in high school, not this Mark. No, not this Mark._

_He sat quietly across the table from me at the Life. We hadn't been out of the loft together in over a month and it had taken me days to convince him. Funny how things change, huh? With his arms crossed over his chest, I knew he didn't want to be here. _

"_How was work?" I asked, trying to start a conversation._

"_Fine," he answered curtly, not looking up from the menu. Why was he reading the damn menu? We'd been coming here for years… I could probably recite the list from memory in my sleep._

"_Your mother called," I said._

"_Yeah? So?"_

"_Just thought you'd like to know."_

"_Oh, well, I don't. And since when do you deliver messages?"_

_Sighing, I propped my head up with my hand. "Mark, could you not start in on me?"_

"_Me? You're the one who started it. You brought my mother up."_

_I decided to drop it. He'd been moody lately and I didn't want to cause a scene. "Maureen stopped by earlier."_

"_Oh? How is she?"_

"_Fine," I said, relaxing slightly. _

"_You'd know."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_You and her hang out all the time. You're like best friends all of the sudden."_

"_Mark, what are you talking about?"_

"_What? You don't think it's true? Come on, Roger, you and Maureen are practically joined at the hip."_

_I was more than slightly taken aback by this comment. Sure, Maureen and I had been hanging out more than usual lately, but we worked similar schedules and we were friends after all. _

"_Where the hell did that come from?" I asked, frowning._

"_Oh, don't give me that," he growled, dropping the menu onto the table. "I've seen you two together."_

"_Mark, Maureen and I are friends. Remember? We used to live together?"_

"_You never liked her much when we lived together."_

"_She was my ex-girlfriend and fucking my best friend. Was I supposed to like her?"_

"_She's still your ex-girlfriend," he pointed out._

"_But now I'm fucking you," I said, voice a little softer than before. _

"_You are?"_

"_Mark, shut up."_

"_Don't tell me to shut up. I've seen you and Maureen. Together. Getting coffee and doing whatever."_

"_You've been spying on me?" I asked, voice rising slightly. "Mark, we get coffee. That's what friends do. You could come, too, if you weren't working on your damn film all the time."_

_I watched his face redden and his fists clench._

"_Don't even bring that into this. We're talking about you, not me."_

"_Mark, where the hell did this come from? I didn't do anything. I don't get it."_

"_Why don't you go fuck her if you like her so much?"_

"_I don't need this shit," I muttered, dropping my napkin onto the table._

"_That's right, run away," he said loud enough for heads to turn._

"_Fuck you, Mark," I spat before standing and marching towards the door._

"_Fine! Go! Leave! I don't give a fuck!" he shouted after me. _

_Feet pounding on the pavement, I swore under my breath, fingernails digging into my palms. Angry tears stung at my eyes, threatening to spill, but I blinked them back, telling myself I would not let him do this to me. He was angry, jealous, it had nothing to do with me, or at least that's what I told myself as I climbed the stairs to the loft. I never once touched Maureen. Never. She was my best friend, besides Mark, and he was wrong. He was so wrong. Just jealous… Mark was jealous._

**The best thing about waking up in the morning was knowing he was right beside me, his arms usually wrapped around me, naked body pressed close, warm breath falling on my shoulders. Every morning was good because he was there. Usually the first to wake, I'd turn slowly in his arms and watch him as he slept, studying every curve and dip and spot on his face. Sometimes a smile would flash on his face and I knew he was dreaming. Leaning forward, I would kiss the warm skin on his shoulder and he'd twitch, taking a deep breath in, toes stretching. **

"**Good morning, handsome," I'd murmur, kissing his chest.**

**He'd grumble, eyes still closed and roll onto his back, tugging me with him. Curling up onto his chest, I'd continue to drop kisses to his skin, unable to get enough of him. My fingers would slide back through his hair, trace over his eyebrows and nose, dance across his shoulders. **

"**Come on, sleepy, it's morning."**

"**Hrmph," he'd mumble, turning his head away. "What's so good about it?"**

**Slowly, I'd climb up his chest, mouth landing on his neck, and gently kiss up to his ear, tongue licking around the shell before dipping inside.**

"**You."**

**He'd squirm under me and grip my hips tightly, holding me close. "Mmm," he'd hum, fingers running down my spine. "That is rather good."**

"**You're so modest," I'd tease, kissing his cheek, rubbing my nose against his skin.**

"**I know," he'd croak, voice heavy with sleep. Slowly, his eyes would open and he'd turn and kiss me. **

**I always hated mornings, but going to bed and knowing he would be there when I woke up was the best feeling ever. Someone would fall asleep holding me and wake up doing the same thing. Someone wanted me. Someone loved me.**

_The worst thing about waking up was knowing you were waking up alone. We rarely slept in the same room any more. Things were so rough, so beaten and tattered, bruised like an apple. I had moved into Collins and Benny's old room, the one the three of us shared while Mark and Maureen were together. It was cold in there, but that might have been due to the lack of a warm body lying next to me. I would wake in the morning and miss his kisses, miss the warmth he provided, just miss him in general. And then I'd remember all the things we said or didn't say last night, all of the glares he gave or the way he seemed to look right through me… and waking up alone wasn't so bad. I didn't have to see him, didn't have to hear him, didn't have to touch him. _

_Usually, if I stayed in bed long enough, he would get up before me, take a shower and rummage around for his camera and leave before I left the room. One less time I had to look at him. After he'd leave, I'd drag myself out of bed and look at the coffee pot, hoping maybe one time there would be the comforting black liquid I had come to need every morning in it, like there used to be, but it was always empty. The loft was empty. I was empty. And though I'd never tell him, it killed me to hate him like this._

**Many more kisses followed that first kiss on the roof and kisses became a part of life. Roger became a way of life, but we'd decided, for the most part, to keep our relationship pretty quiet. We were together when we were alone, but when we went out or were with friends, we acted as if nothing had changed. And with the exception of physical contact, nothing had. But as was expected, someone picked up on the longing stares and the sneaking touches and when we were feeling especially daring, the secret kisses. **

"**Hey Mark," a deep voice called from the loft. **

**Jumping slightly, I clutched my yellow legal pad close and turned from my perch on the fire escape to see a tall dark skinned man plucking a joint from his lips. **

"**Hey Collins," I sighed, smiling. "You scared me for a second."**

"**D'you think I was Roger or something?"**

**My heart stopped for a moment as I stood, brushing my pants off.**

"**Uh, no, Roger's taking a nap right now. I knew it wasn't him…"**

"**Nap, huh? So that's where the fucker ran off to… how'd you know he was napping?"**

**Because he always naps at two o clock. "Uh, he told me earlier," I shrugged.**

**Collins paused for a moment, staring at me, before he began to chuckle.**

"**What are you laughing at?" I asked, getting slightly defensive.**

"**You. Acting all secrety about it. Come on, Mark, we all know."**

"**You do?" I gulped.**

"**Well, I know. Think Jo might have an idea. Mo probably doesn't… but I do."**

"**How'd you know?"**

**He tapped the top of his head and winked at me. "I know everything."**

"**Of course," I sighed, following him back into the apartment. "So… what do you think?"**

"**What do I think? Mark, why would you care what I think? What I think shouldn't effect who you love. But honestly… it's about damn time."**

**I choked for a second. "What?"**

"**You two have been in love since I met you both… five years ago. What the hell took you so long?"**

**I must have been the color of a tomato. "I um… I dunno… I guess we just… you know… it just… there were…"**

**Collins chuckled again, slapping me on the back. "Hey, no need to explain. Things happen. Complications arise. You take it as it comes. Everything happens for a reason."**

"**Yeah," I nodded, feeling slightly better. "I guess it does."**

"**Of course it does," he said firmly, looking up towards the ceiling. "So you and Roger… finally. You wanna talk?"**

"**Oh, Collins, I've been dying to tell someone," I gushed, smiling like a fool. "I've never been happier in my life. It's amazing. It's wonderful. I can't believe someone can make me feel like this. Like… I could fly. I feel like I could fly, Collins."**

"**Yeah," he smiled, shaking his head. "I know what you mean."**

"**Oh," I said, relaxing slightly, remembering his loss. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"**

"**Don't be sorry. Everything happens for a reason. You're happy and you haven't been able to tell anyone. Go for it."**

"**Thanks," I smiled before I continued to rave about life with Roger. I knew Collins would understand. If anyone would, it would be him. And he approved, which was a huge weight off my shoulders. It was great. **

_I hadn't seen her in weeks because of what Mark had said. I had quickly tried to explain and I hoped she understood, but fuck, it was lonely and I needed someone to talk to. Mark had gone out not too long ago and he would be out for the rest of the day. Picking up the phone, I punched the numbers and held it to my ear._

"_Hello?"_

"_Maur?"_

"_Roger," she said, sounding slightly surprised. "What's up, baby?"_

"_I uh… I know what I said… but I really need someone to talk to."_

"_I'll be right over."_

_I sighed, relieved, and rolled out of bed, tossing on a pair of jeans before I left my room. Within minutes, the large door slid open and in she flew right to my arms, hugging me tightly. I held her close, burying my face in her dark hair. _

"_I don't know what to do," I murmured after a few moments. _

"_Oh, honey," she cooed, stroking the back of my head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry… but my heart decided not to listen to my head and soon big fat tears slid down my cheeks and onto her shoulders._

"_Rog, it's okay," she whispered into my ear, rubbing my back gently. "Sh, it'll be okay."_

"_I hate him, Maureen," I told her as she led me towards the couch. _

"_You don't, baby, you really don't," she said, letting me lean on her. _

"_I don't know how to fix this. So much has changed and I don't know how I got here. I don't know how we got here."_

_She sat quietly, listening to me ramble on about the events of the past few weeks, crying pathetically in her lap. Her fingers threaded through my hair and her soothing touched quieted my tears. _

"_I can't do this anymore," I told her, sitting up slowly. "I can't take living like this. I can't look at him, I can't touch him, can't think of being with him. We don't speak, he doesn't love me."_

_She looked at me for a long time, studying my red tear streaked face, before taking a deep breath and sighing. _

"_Then don't. Don't live like that. You need to do what makes you happy. I'm not going to tell you what to do, Roger, but you need to be happy."_

"_Thanks," I sniffled as she kissed my forehead. _

"_And if you ever want to talk, I'm here. I hope things work out."_

"_Me, too, babe, me, too."_

**Back at the beginning. Everything is new and exciting. There's this feeling bubbling in my chest – it's warm and comforting and it makes me think that this is right. It has to be right. We're right. I can't picture life without him and I can't think of anything that would make me happier. His face, his voice, his kiss, his touch – intoxicating. I'm falling in love and it's wonderful.**

_So this is the end. Everything is gone, dead, evaporated. Every feeling I ever had for him is gone; I'm gone. So empty. Everything that I was, that I felt, that I thought and believed in is dead. We worked so hard and tried so long and this is what I've got – a half empty bottle of Absolut, a hand full of memories and a fold out couch at Maureen's. I can't believe we ended up here. It's over. _


End file.
